


Stuck in a hole with your co-workers nazi boyfriend

by Pidgey



Series: Second Impressions [2]
Category: Justified
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 22:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10795815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pidgey/pseuds/Pidgey
Summary: Rachel just wants to do her job. She's good at it but somehow there's always a man from Harlan in her way.





	Stuck in a hole with your co-workers nazi boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> This only alludes to the universe I've set it in. Boyd is a crime lord but low key about it. Various power struggles and violent clashes keep happening. This is set during one such event.

The basement door swings open and Boyd winces at the light that shines in. After hours of the dim lighting of the basement his eyes were sensitive enough that he only saw the outline of a figure until a much smaller figure was shoved and came tumbling down the stairs. The door slams shut again and a female voice swears profusely.

“Are you alright miss?”

“Oh goddamn. Boyd Crowder?”

“In the flesh. Is that you Deputy?”

“Yeah it’s me. Ah dammit.” Rachel hisses.

His eyes adjust again and he sees that she her sitting at the base of the stairs rubbing her wrist.

“Are you alright?” he repeats.

“Yeah, hurts like crazy but I don’t think it’s broken. We’ve been looking for you; thought you were responsible for the bloodbath going on. Raylan has been going nuts. Those assholes aren’t friends of yours after all?”

“I don’t know how you treat your friends but this isn’t how I treat mine.” Boyd raises his bound hands to show her. She looks at him and takes in his state properly for the first time. He is naked from the waist up, angry red cuts and deep purple bruises cover his face and torso. His jeans are covered in the dirt from the basement floor, dried blood is smeared across his chin. Probably from the angry looking split lip he was sporting. All in all, he looks like shit.

“Boy did you piss them off. What the hell did they do to you?”

“I believe those boys have watched too many action movies. They wanted information and compliance. I was not inclined to give either.” His voice is raspy and almost painful to listen to.

Rachel inhales sharply, “they tortured you.”

“Not well, don’t fret. But when it didn’t work immediately they tossed me down here.”

“Well, as long as you don’t die on me. I can’t stand Raylan’s kicked puppy look.” She gets awkwardly to her feet with a groan. Looking around the dingy basement her heart sinks at how barren it is. She walks the perimeter searching for some weakness or something she could use. The one window is boarded from the outside and it looks solid. She tries to push at the board anyway.

“I tried that.” Boyd drawls, “I’ve tried everything. It’s no good.”

“Well I’m trying again,” Rachel snaps.

“Suit yourself.” Boyd says tiredly.

Rachel looks at him again, “How long have you been down here?”

“Well Marshal, that depends very much on what day it is.” Boyd smirks but when Rachel tells him the smirk drops from his face.

“Two days… Three all up of enjoying Jimmy’s hospitality, two down here.”

That explains the rasp, the man who had grabbed her didn’t seem the type to feed and water a prisoner properly, if at all. Rachel sighs. What had she done to deserve this? She sits gingerly on the floor next to Boyd, mindful of her sore wrist.

“Here give me your wrists.”

He looks at her suspiciously for a second before obediently holding them out. Rachel starts fiddling with the knots. They’re overly tight and she wonders absently if Boyd can feel his fingers at all. He hisses and clenches his teeth as the rope falls away and rubs at the red, raw wounds on his wrists.

“Thank you.”

Rachel shrugs dismissively. She shuffles back and sits against the same wall as Boyd about a foot away.

“Well, this sucks.” she says and Boyd chuckles.

* * *

 

A few hours pass in in near silence and extreme tedium. Rachel gets up and paces a few times to stretch her legs and just for something to do. Her mouth is feeling dry and she can feel the aggravation and a growing sense of claustrophobia itching under her skin. Boyd doesn’t move and keeps his eyes shut. She returns to her spot next to him. She could sit further away but they were in this shit together.

She glances at Boyd, perturbed by how quiet and still he is. Even with his eyes shut he looks full of intense thought. She looks him over again, he is shivering a bit due to the cold in the basement and one of his hands is clutched in the fabric of his pant leg. In the dim light she can’t really see the extent of his wounds but the blood stands out against his pale skin. The blood and the tattoo. She had read his file, knew it was there but to actually see the swastika dominating the skin of his arm felt so strange. She’d seen plenty of similar tatts but Boyd’s was obnoxiously large and seemed so disparate to his soft spoken and well educated demeanour it threw her. It made her wonder what would send an intelligent man down such a disgusting path.

“There’s no hate left behind it,” Boyd says gently and she startles, looking up realises he has been staring at her, “I don’t know if there ever really was any. Now though, now it’s just ink on skin.”

“Bullshit! Do you really believe that?” Rachel turns to face him with fire in her eyes.  
“Do you doubt my sincerity Marshal?”  
“No. I bet you believe that shit as it comes out of your mouth. I just can’t believe you are that stupid about it!” Boyd frowns at her quizzically. He has been called many things but stupid is not usually one of them.

“You think just because you stopped running with those Nazi boys and stopped preaching that hate it all goes away? How long were you recruiting? How many boys got that same tattoo to impress you? And now you’ve stopped you expect to be rewarded, like you’ve done something noble by moving onto something else? While we have to deal with the hate and violence you left in your wake? Bull-fucking-shit” She slumped back against the wall, drained.

Boyd purses his lips and returns his gaze to the opposite wall. The silence hangs so heavy and tense that Rachel almost startles when Boyd speaks again. If it weren’t for the complete silence in the basement she might not have even heard him.

“I am… sorry. I can’t take it back, and I can’t… I can’t say that if I went back in time I would’ve made any different decisions.” He stared at her again. His eyes large and his gaze sincere.

She sighed, the anger rolled in her gut again but right now Boyd Crowder was just a man in pain tied in a basement. “I really thought a man like you would’ve understood what it is like to walk around in fear, knowing people hate you for something you can’t and wouldn’t change.”

Boyd’s eyes narrowed, dark and dangerous. His entire body language shifted and suddenly she wasn’t seeing a circumstantial comrade and a victim, she was seeing Boyd Crowder, leader of a criminal empire.

“And what kind of man are you referring to?”

She shrugged, “Raylan told me about you two. I thought that kind of thing would change your opinion on Neo Nazis who would want you dead. Bein’ in a minority ain’t easy, even one that’s not obvious just from looking at ya.”

Boyd’s eyes widened so dramatically it would have been comical in any other situation, “He told you? Who else knows?”

“A few of us. Plus, anybody else at the bar who was listening to a drunk Marshal rave. The chief doesn’t know far as I can tell.”

“Course not. Or Raylan would be fired and I would be dead.” Boyd says matter of fact. “We’ve been so careful. And he just told you?”

“He was pretty drunk.”

He thumps his head against the wall and stares at the ceiling, “Raylan what on earth am I going to do with you?”

“How’d it start? I’m picturing a high school love story. Forbidden love, feuding daddies. The whole nine yards.” Rachel teased mercilessly.

“We were never together at teenagers.” Boyd murmurs distractedly.

Now it’s Rachel’s turn to stare at him bug-eyed, “Wait, you and Raylan are together now? Holy crap.”

“What?”

“I thought you had a thing when you were kids! I thought ‘we dug coal together’ was hillbilly for ‘we had a sordid affair at nineteen and now can’t shoot each other despite being on opposite sides of every gun fight in the county’! I didn’t think either of you were stupid enough to get together as adults!” She hisses frantically.

“Wait, wait.” Boyd raises his hands in a slowing motion eyes shut and brow furrowed. “What _specifically_ did Raylan tell you?” 

“I was bluffing!”

Boyd lets out a sharp bark of laughter. It swells to an almost manic laughter until it rasps into a cough. Taking a deep breath, he gives her a broad smile, his shark like teeth glinting even in the low light, “I’d like to blame my gullibility on the circumstances but I reckon that even if I weren’t bloody and sleep deprived I would still have fallen for that. Well done marshal.”

Rachel grins despite herself, but it falls away quickly, “you and Raylan huh?”

“Literal cops and robbers,” Boyd smiles lightly, he lolls his head to smirk at her, “…allegedly.”

 “You know that’s the dumbest thing either of you could do right? Really I should report Raylan, he should get fired and that should be the end of it.” Rachel exclaims viciously.

“Well, Marshal, that is indeed what should happen, but I believe the question of importance is what is going to happen?” Boyd say in a level voice. Here, this entire time, in a dingy basement, half naked, beaten, dehydrated and cold, Boyd hadn’t looked vulnerable. He sat straight, eyes focused, stare calm and intense as always. But at this moment Rachel could see genuine fear and uncertainty in his eyes. It was unsettling.

Rachel shrugs and sighs with resignation, “I guess that’s up to you two, not me. I don’t see the point in turning Raylan in. This is going to implode one way or the other anyway. And I’d bet on sooner rather than later.”

Boyd let’s out a breath.

“Besides,” she shrugs, “I like Raylan. He’s a dumbass cowboy who thinks with his dick but in the end he is a good guy.”

Boyd smiles broadly staring forward again, “that he is.”

“You’re really far gone aren’t you?” she says incredulously.

“Can you blame me?”

“Please, I work with the guy, I’ve seen that ass.” She laughs despite herself and Boyd lets out a surprised laugh as well.

“He has other charms, one or two.”

Their laughter fades and they fall into a silence that was almost companionable.

Shouting from upstairs and a loud bang shakes Rachel out of her light doze. The door bangs open and Boyd sits bolt upright.

“Da fuck was you thinkin’ man? You keepin’ a goddamn cop!”

“The fuck else you expect me to do with her?”

“Shoot the bitch! Dump her somewhere! Who was gonna know!”

The man storms down the stairs drawing a pistol as he does. Rachel and Boyd both scramble to their feet. Rachel casts her eyes desperately around the basement, despite knowing it was barren. She needed cover or a distraction or… something! She was going to die. She crouches slightly, ready to tackle the man with the gun. Calling it a longshot would be generous but maybe she could use the confusion to get away. She’s ready to move as the man reaches the bottom of the stairs but stops surprised as Boyd steps in front of her.

“Now Jim,” he says gently, “I think we both know that is not a good idea.”

Jim lifts his gun and points it at Boyd’s chest, “Outta my way Boyd. We still need ya so don’t make me shoot you.”

“I ain’t making you do anything Jim. I’m just telling you that you can’t shoot a Marshal.”

“Why the hell not?”

“You gonna bring the feds down on us? It won’t matter then where my daddy’s money is. Or who runs the business. They’ll wipe us out.”

“Bull fucking shit Boyd! They’d never know.”

“I ain’t gonna let you kill her.”

“I knew it. Didn’t I say Jason? Didn’t I say he spends too much fucking time in Lexington? You’re on the side of the Marshals ain’t ya? What is it? You feed them information an’ they leave you be?”

“Now I know emotions are running high.” Boyd says in a tempered voice, “You got fire in your blood right now and I know in any other situation you would know better than to accuse me of being a snitch, right son?”

“Well da fuck is going on then? You fucking this bitch? You’re a goddamn race traitor?”

Boyd spits with rage, “I’d rather you accuse me of being a snitch again. This is just business. You kill her and you don’t kill me I’ll make sure you suffer for bringing the law down on me and mine. You kill her and me both an’ my boys will tear you limb from limb.”

Rachel can see over Boyd’s shoulder that he man is quivering slightly, “We gotta kill her Boyd. She’s seen our faces!”

“You let us deal with her. Once this little… business disagreement between you and me is settled my boys will take care of her.”

“Maybe we should listen to him Jim.” Jim’s brother says tentatively.

“Shut the fuck up Jason! This is all your goddamn fault anyways!” Jim almost screams.

“Jim, look at me.” Boyd says firmly, he is holding up one hand as approaching a shy pony rather than a mad criminal with a gun, “Jim, it’s okay, alright? This is all still under control.”

“How the fuck do you figure that?”

“You still got me don’t ya? My boys can fix all this, and you still got me to trade with. ‘Sides, I’ve been thinking it over an’ I think you’re right. We can partner up, I have a few… reservations about some of your demands but we can work something out that satisfies all parties.” Boyd soothes.

Jim looks hopeful for a second, “You mean it? You’ll let us…”

“Jim!” Boyd interrupts firmly. “You do not discuss business in front of the law. Even if I have said I will handle it, you do _not_ discuss business in front of the law. Now you both run upstairs. I’m going to give you time to think of what demands you can’t part with and then we will negotiate alright?”

Jim hesitates, clearly unsure, Boyd holds his gaze and doesn’t move. A banging noise comes from upstairs and all four of them jump.

“Go see what the fuck that was!” Jim snaps at Jason. The younger scrambles upstairs. After a long moment they hear shouting and Jim swings around to look upstairs.

“What the hell was… umpf” he grunts as Rachel takes advantage of the distraction and rushes past Boyd, bodily tackling Jim to the ground. The gun clatters to the ground and Boyd quickly kicks it away. He raises his hands above his head as the door bursts open. Raylan and Tim rush into the room and take in the sight before them. Tim quickly holsters his weapon and methodically cuffs Jim, pulls him roughly to his feet while Raylan helps Rachel to hers.

 

“Locals have the younger brother in custody, you all right?” Raylan asks tersely. Rachel nods.

 

“Hey Raylan, I’ll take this asshole outside and you help Rachel and Crowder to the.” Tim says.

“I’m fine.” Rachel interrupts.

“Are you kidding? You’re hurt and…” Tim starts.

“Naw, you let me help put these assholes in custody. Little bit of payback alright?” She smiles broadly, “’Sides someone’s gotta take Crowder’s statement and if I’m honest I’m sick of him. Raylan can do it.”

She glances back, meeting Boyd’s surprised gaze with a mischievous smile and nearly laughs out loud at Raylan’s confused expression.

“C’mon asshole.” She gives Jim a shove towards the stairs. At the top of the stairs she turns back and sees Raylan has moved close to Boyd and is cupping his face, inspecting the wound on the other man’s forehead. Boyd is leaning into Raylan’s touch and just before they fall out of sight Rachel sees Boyd all but collapse forward into Raylan’s embrace, clutching him like a lifeline.

When they get back outside and safely pack the boys into the back of a cruiser Tim finally convinces Rachel to get her wrist looked at. They see Boyd being tended to by another paramedic with Raylan, arms crossed, speaking to him in low tones.

“What was that about? You and Crowder?” Tim asks curiously.

Rachel shakes her head, “Honestly? I don’t even fucking know Tim.”

“Booze?” Tim suggests.  
  
"Now you're speaking my language!" Rachel smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> So everyone seemed to love "The waiting room" and I decided what the hey I'll post the others. I've rewritten this one and it's still my least favourite but I couldn't let Rachel go without her own oneshot. Constructive criticism much appreciated. How the tone/voices etc? Does it suck donkey dick that I keep using virtually the same plot over and over?  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
